


An Assignation

by Alexielnoten



Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey, イケメン戦国 時をかける恋 | Ikemen Sengoku: Toki o Kakeru Koi (Visual Novel)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Knife Play, NSFW, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexielnoten/pseuds/Alexielnoten
Summary: In another world, another story, and another canon, you and Mitsuhide find yourself in a particular set of circumstances.





	An Assignation

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes on this. This is written in a kinda Jacqueline Carey style and world...If you haven’t read Kushiel’s Dart...do. Flachettes were these knives used by Valerian house and their purpose was to maximize pain with minimal damage. Valerian house held the adepts of submission and masochism, so… The terms like flachettes, anguisette, and signale were taken from Carey’s work as I adored her language and wanted to use it here...This also takes influence of the scene featuring Phedre and Melisande, as I feel Mitsuhide would get a kick out of seeing if he could get someone to give a safe word out...though, I am by and far nowhere near her level of erotica, I hope I at least gave some reader joy in this. This Mitsuhide is owned by Cybird and Kushiel’s Dart is owned by Jacqueline Carey. Otherwise, this story is mine. Happy Kinktober.

You shifted, chains rattling as you tested the shackles holding you. Locked tight. Your lip twitched, was this a “damn” moment or a “nice” one. When you had been approached with this assignation, you had signed it almost without looking. After all, the client was one you had admired many a night and the gods seemed to smile on you that he had taken an interest in return. His request had been somewhat uncommon, though not unheard of, and the mere thought of you and he had your heart racing; though whether from desire or fear even you weren’t sure which served to heighten the current experience. 

“Comfortable, little mouse?” Mitsuhide’s voice was full of amusement at your situation, knowing full well that you weren’t exactly comfortable, though you weren’t really complaining. You couldn’t see him, but you could visualize the smirk he wore on his smugly handsome face. You adjusted position again, the chains rattling above your head, lifting up to give your raised arms some relief. You were thankful that Mitsuhide had you kneeling on the bed, at least, though a distant part of you questioned why the chains were at the bed to begin with. 

He laughed, “You’re smiling, silly girl.” Busted. You tried to school your face, but found the task near impossible. You were positively electric with nervous energy at what was to come. You’d heard of them, but never actually tried them and you’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn’t horrifically curious at how they felt, even if the more sensible side of you screamed at the danger of it all. Excitement was just one word to describe you at the moment, to say the least. 

“And you’re trembling,” Mitsuhide’s amusement practically dripped from his words and you had to bite your tongue to keep from retorting back, “My dear, does my prey perhaps enjoy her situation? I will have to work harder, then.”

The guffaw was out before you could stop yourself. You continued, since you seemed to be committed to the brat at this point, “You know...I’d not be so trembly if you'd let my arms down.” You both understood the game. Upon signing, you had agreed on the signale and you nor he had yet to give it. This was just playful bantering on your part. Hopefully, your mind whispered, a banter that would earn you a sweet kind of punishment from the golden-eyed kitsune.

“Tsk tsk,” came the reply. Despite the sound, Mitsuhide was far from disappointed. Fabric rustled and a chair scraped the floor. It seemed he had taken some time to sit and enjoy you all trussed up as you were. Had you not been blinded, you probably would have missed the near-silent footsteps as he approached. Then, that all too deeply seductive voice was in your ear, “Let’s find out if our dear Little Princess can keep that entertaining mouth of hers going, hmm?”

Something touched you, then and you jumped. It wasn’t the promised item, but the braided leather still had you twitching, your skin almost burning with the unspoken threat. Your breath grew a touch ragged and you tugged at your cuffs, knowing full well you were held tight. 

He didn’t strike hard, but the leather kissed your ass and you squealed all the same. Another strike and you cried out. A third strike and then a hand swept over your new welts. You whimpered as Mitsuhide scraped a nail lightly over your injuries. You mentally saw that he was smiling as he examined his handiwork. 

“When I was first introduced to whips, I had no idea how effective they could be,” his fingers trailed to your thighs as he spoke, touching your most sensitive region. You gasped, Mitsuhide slipping a finger inside you before withdrawing. “Little mouse,” he teased, withdrawing from you, “we haven’t even begun and you’re already this excited? And here I thought you would cry for me.”

He stepped away. You shifted your hips mewling for the feeling of him again. “Please…” You figured begging would prolong your suffering, but couldn’t help yourself, “Mitsuhide-san…”

His laugh danced along your skin, “Now you’re flattering me, little one.” Fabric rustled again, and you heard him pick something up. Now you were shaking. It was coming and you were high on the entire situation. 

“I’ve barely touched you and look at you,” he was saying as he approached, “what an anguisette you are.” The cool metal touched your body and you squeaked as the flat end of it ran up your side, “I’m told flachettes feel quite painful. I’ve been eager to test this out on my sweet, little one.” His wrist shifted and the edge was against you, a sting indicating that skin had been damage. “Shall we see if I can make my cute little adept give her signale?”

You held your breath, your silence confirming your choice. Mitsuhide moved, kissing your lips before the tip kissed your skin. You cried out, a rush of pain scoring through you. You heaved as your heart skipped a beat, leaving you a flushed mess. A second nick and you jerked, your arms pulling at the chain. Three, four, five...each new slit added to the sensation and the tightness between your thighs and the pain had you quietly crying behind your blindfold.

There was a pause and you wondered if maybe Mitsuhide would give the signale instead of you. You were about to protest that your tears were not indicative that you wanted to stop when you felt the blade again. This time, Mitsuhide seemed more careful with what he intended. The blade pressed softly, and you bit your lip, a coppery taste filling your mouth as the blade curved around your hip.

Six, seven, eight...The strokes kept coming and soon you were almost screaming. It was becoming too much. A vague and far away part of you recalled how lingchi was used once upon a time. Did Mitsuhide intend that? A cooler side of you knew better but you had also long learned that Mitsuhide was a master of torment.

Stroke eighteen and you all but screamed, “Jūbei!” It was done. You tried to quiet your sobs, lips pressed together as you cried. Fingers reached out, gently stroking your face. 

“A moment,” Mitsuhide whispered. You heard clinking, fabric rustling, and then he returned. His hands slid up your arms and unlocked the shackles. He held you as he gently lowered you to the bed, taking care to avoid your fresh little cuts. The blindfold was removed and you were able to see. Soft sheets met your sight, the soft summer sky blue giving an air to the room you didn’t really think Mitsuhide would have. Given the situation, you thought maybe black or red, but then...that was more Nobunaga’s thing, wasn’t it? Still, the color suited the fox most appropriately. Shame your tears dripped onto the fabric.

“My apologies,” Mitsuhide said, his voice chaste. You glanced at him, his topaz orbs full of shame and reproach. You reached up, stroking his silky white locks away from his glistening eyes and smiled through your own tears. His expression shifted, a mix of pitied amusement and confusion. “You smile at me despite all this, dear one?”

You smiled harder, “Because it’s you.” After a moment, you frowned. Mitsuhide’s eyes careful and blank as he took in your ever-changing face. “But why so much on my hip?” Mitsuhide’s face was unreadable as ever as his eyes traveled to the injuries in question. You moved, groaning at how tender all your little slivers of hurt added to your pains. Your eyes fell upon your hip and though the marks were upside down to your face, you were certain of what he’d just put on you. 

光秀

You looked up at him and found him still watching you.

Your loving smile turned into sheer humor, “Hideyoshi will kill you if he learns of this.” You laughed, falling back onto the sheets in a fury of chortles.

Finally, though, that mask fell away and Mitsuhide smiled a look that seemed only for you, “And how will Hideyoshi ever find out, hmm?” There was a challenge, almost a threat, and you spent a moment debating if you should take the obvious bait. 

Instead of giving an answer, you leaned up to kiss him, whining in pain as you did so. Mitsuhide kissed you in return, pushing you down to the bed.

“I’ve made you cry,” Mitsuhide murmured, golden eyes boring into yours, “and while your tears thrill me so, I think…” as he spoke his fingers found your warmth once more, stoking the embers back into blazing life, “I should reward my dearest for her hard-earned tears and giving me my signale.”


End file.
